


The Mirror

by danpuff



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Violence, Character Death, Drugged Sex, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danpuff/pseuds/danpuff
Summary: Lucius Malfoy watches his guests through a mirror.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Kingsley Shacklebolt, Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 22
Kudos: 241





	The Mirror

“Ha! A Malfoy can never be too far from a mirror, can he?”

It was always the same comment when guests saw the mirror. It was a full length masterpiece, an ornate silver frame of serpentine design, with fist sized diamonds at the top and bottom. The glass was clear, perfect for primping in front of. It was the centerpiece of Lucius Malfoy’s study, surrounded by bookshelves and tables and furniture. It sat right across from the deep green chaise Lucius favored. 

“With faces like ours, why would we be?” Lucius would reply with a grin.

His guests were not wrong. Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco were enamored by their own reflections. He would often catch his son admiring himself in the backs of spoons, and Narcissa could not pass windows without checking her reflection in them. Any reflective surface, they might look upon in hopes of catching a glimpse of their sharp lines and fair coloring. And if Lucius spent his spare time seated on his chaise, reading a book, and glanced up once and a while to check his posture, well - it wasn’t harming anyone.

Of course, his guests were not entirely correct, either.

What they did not know was that the frame could be turned, shifting the top towards the left, until it became the bottom. The diamonds would shift to a hazy green that matched the decor. And when the diamonds darkened, it was not himself Lucius saw in the glass, but the bedroom on the third floor that housed this mirror’s twin.

* * *

Over the years, Lucius kept a careful eye on his guests. He watched them strip and masturbate and sleep. He watched couples fight and fuck. 

He had watched Bellatrix explore various depravities with various partners. Had watched her with both Lestrange brothers before, and after, her marriage. He watched her torture and rape and murder Muggles. 

He watched his beautiful Narcissa with an assortment of girls and boys he provided to pleasure her - all lovely and well bred, as befitting a Malfoy lady. 

He had seen his father, when he was alive, with his mistresses. He had seen Amycus with his sister, and Yaxley with two house elves, and Sulpicia Selwyn with an animated statue. He had seen bloodbathes and orgies and worse crimes still.

He watched his own son slip into that room, years ago, to give his virginity to Blaise Zabini. Two tall, slim boys in a tangle of limbs. His son with the Parkinson girl, and both Greengrass girls, and Nott, and two Weasleys, and more. A string of attractive pureblood witches and wizards.

Because Malfoys were beautiful, and they had good taste, and it was always a pleasure to watch.

* * *

Most important of all was Draco following instructions. And when Auror Shacklebolt came knocking after the war, it was up to Draco to lead him to the third floor. And Narcissa went to work while Lucius settled in his office for the show.

A show of teasing and tempting. The stripping of robes. His youthful son kissing a man more than twice his age. The imposing figure, towering over his slender heir, allowing himself to be shoved to the bed. Fair skin sliding over dark. His sweet, obedient boy sinking onto the auror’s thick cock. 

Inappropriate, to bed a suspect, and Shacklebolt’s reasons for coming were never mentioned, nor was his indiscretion. 

The order was more advantageous than Lucius could have realized, when Kingsley began courting his son after. Lucius entertained the idea of sending wine to Zabini and Nott and Parkinson and the Greengrasses and the Weasleys, for training Draco well. Shacklebolt was a good pureblood name, and Kingsley himself was on the path to Minister for Magic.

* * *

“No wonder Draco can’t stop looking at himself,” Harry Potter muttered into a glass of wine. “It runs in the family.”

“Hush, brat,” Severus Snape murmured in response. 

Lucius overheard the exchange, and hid his smirk behind a sip of his own wine. It was a small gathering in celebration of his son’s upcoming nuptials, and a perfectly good excuse to get his old friend in the guest bedroom with his famous paramour. 

After dinner, Lucius settled himself on his chaise lounge as Harry and Severus retired. It was not his first time spying on Severus’s bedroom activities, but it was his first time getting a look at Harry Potter. A look at him backing into the room, grinning as Severus stalked him like prey to the wall. At fervent kissing, and desperate grasping. An explosive passion Lucius had not anticipated, with their more reticent dinner table behavior. 

The stripping of robes revealed a body sun-kissed and toned from time on a broom. Lucius levitated the mirror closer for a better look, and to better hear. The sweet little pleas from Harry’s throat, and a growl from Severus that shot heat up Lucius’s spine. 

The boy dropped to his knees, took Severus into his mouth with no preamble. Lucius pressed his knuckles into his mouth, his other hand dropping to palm his growing arousal. Severus’s arm braced against the wall, one hand buried in wild black hair; Harry’s hands around Severus, pulling him in, urging him to fuck his mouth. 

And when Severus yanked his head back, it was not to drag him to the bed. Severus fell to his knees to take the boy right there on the floor by the wall. Laid the boy out on his back, legs over shoulders, and just - _took_ him - with none of the restraint Lucius had known him to have. Severus had been so careful, so artful, with previous lovers - with Evan Rosier and Regulus Black and Titus Fawley and more. Lucius remembered him meticulous, and focused, not this animal pawing and thrusting. 

By the way Harry dragged his nails down Severus’s back, his own back arching off of the floor, the way his mouth fell open to cry out so beautifully - Lucius could hardly blame his friend’s loss of control. 

Nor his own, really.

* * *

After, Severus lifted the boy into his arms and deposited him into bed. He fed him a potion and cradled him close until he fell asleep. Dreamless Sleep, for nightmares that plagued their precious savior. 

Lucius knew this. And he knew, too, what would happen next. Restless, and with free reign to the library, his friend slipped out of bed to explore. And once he was gone, Lucius abandoned his mirror in favor of his own explorations.

* * *

Harry was flat on his stomach, sheets draped low around his waist, arms wrapped around his pillow. Lucius carefully trailed fingertips down the smooth skin of his back. The boy’s breathing remained deep and even. Daringly, Lucius tugged the sheet lower to expose the roundness below, and cupped a hand around one firm cheek. 

And the boy slept on.

Heart hammering in his chest, Lucius checked his wards, then made quick work of his robes. The boy was not disturbed by him crawling onto the mattress. He did not so much as twitch as Lucius guided his hard prick to his half open mouth, tracing full pink lips with the leaking tip of his cock. Lucius licked his lips, sinking fingers into the soft black mane. 

Harry Potter was a half-blood, yes, but strikingly beautiful - he was powerful and famous and wealthy, and Lucius could be forgiven for tainting himself this way. No one could blame him, wanting to sink into whatever hole he could. Lucius opened the mouth further to slip the head of his prick inside, just enough to rest against his lax tongue. 

Just there, just like that, stroking his cock with the head resting inside. The hot breath on his hot flesh. Lucius was tempted to come just like that, painting his seed on the boy’s face, or even on his tongue. But he had a more important destination for tonight, if it was to be his only chance. 

Another glance at the door, a quick check of his wards, and Lucius began to work quickly. He shoved the sheets out of the way, maneuvered a free pillow under hips, then braced his arms on either side of him. Tilting his head, he watched his long blonde hair brush against the boy’s skin as his heavy cock settled between his cheeks. He contented himself there a moment, sliding against him. Lucius pressed his lips to Harry’s open mouth, licking away the taste of his own pre-come. Savoring the taste of the boy himself. The taste of _nobleness_ and _purity of spirit_ and _heroism_. 

And it was with that sweetness on his tongue that he reached between them, to guide himself inside. It was so easy, his channel already loose and slick from prior use. Harry’s face twisted into a grimace, body shifting beneath him, and Lucius paused to watch. But the boy settled down, and Lucius began to move - a slow, gentle slide in and out. 

Harry was so soft and sweet beneath him, so _good_. Lucius fisted the sheets, thrusts growing sharper into that delectable heat. The forbidden, dangerous, glorious _heat_. Lucius groaned and raised himself, gripping the boy’s hips - because Severus brewed that Dreamless Sleep, and Lucius was not going to be caught. The boy’s lids fluttered as Lucius began to pound into him, but it was no matter. The weak movement of his body proved fruitless, his quiet whimpering _fruitless_ \- and if he remembered it at all it would be as hazy as a dream. 

Lucius would look that snotty brat in the eye over breakfast, would remember the feel of him now, would watch the confusion and discomfort cross his face - would watch it fall to nothing. Nothing but a dream. Lucius pressed one hand between Harry’s shoulder blades, held him down firmly, fucked into him deeper, harder. He could leave whatever impact he liked - let Harry think it was his beloved Severus who had used him so brutally. 

The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, punctuated by the occasional grunt from Lucius and the occasional whine from Harry. And at the end, when the wards alerted him to an approaching figure, it was too late - he was falling over the edge, shoving ruthlessly deep into the boy’s body, shuddering through his release as the blade sliced through his throat.

Blood drenched the sheets, splattered on the half-asleep boy, as Lucius was dragged by his hair across the room. Lucius made hardly a sound as his manhood was sawed off of his body. He was barely clinging to life at all as the blade sank into his chest. The dark figure made efficient work into the dead man’s body, determined in his goal, stopped only by a weak sobbing from the bed. 

Severus paused. His fingers clenched tightly around the dagger, and he breathed through the violence that was so pointless now that Lucius was dead. He could finish removing the heart later. For now he dropped his tool and crossed to the bed to pull Harry into his arms, tugging the sheets up and around them. 

_”I’m sorry”_ he wanted to say, but the words were so meaningless. The words captured nothing of his horror or shame. All he could do was cradle Harry against his chest, ignore the blood he smeared everywhere, bury face in hair, and pray that Harry would forget by morning.


End file.
